


awake, arise, avail

by JaneBuzJane



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Haiba Lev, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding (mentioned), Brief Kenma/Yaku, First Rut, Implied Kenma/Kuroo, M/M, Masturbation, No cheating, Omega Yaku Morisuke, Pack Dynamics, Porn with Feelings, Porn with Light Plot, Scent Fascination, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2020-11-24 16:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20910863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneBuzJane/pseuds/JaneBuzJane
Summary: This is Yaku-san's knot,Lev thinks, gazing down at his cock thoughtfully. It belongs to him, after all. It only appeared when he smelled Yaku-san's heat.Lev presents as an alpha the first time he smells Yaku-san's heat.Yaku can't stop thinking about it.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I just think they're neat
> 
> Second chapter is Yaku's POV. Stay tuned.

Lev's having a delightful breakfast at training camp, all right up until he very much isn't. 

His gyudon are tender, his onigiri are fragrant, and he's laughing loudly at something Kuroo said when he smells it. _It._ A sweet, titillating aroma that bowls over his senses and leaves him blinking in surprise.

His food turns to ash in his mouth, and distantly, through the ringing in his ears, he can hear Yamamoto chortling at him for the way his jaw is hanging open. 

"'s that smell," he tries to ask, and ends up choking on a bit of salted plum. Kuroo raises an eyebrow at him, and Lev hurriedly chews and swallows. "Kuroo-san. You _smell_ that, right?" The rest of the table quiets down, his teammates looking at him with a mixture of skepticism and confusion. 

Glancing around at their faces, Lev realizes that neither Kenma nor Yaku-san are there. His stomach clenches. He doesn't know why it feels foreboding. Has everyone always been this tense? 

"I can smell it," Kuroo says slowly, leaning forward and placing a hand on the table. His eyes glitter, and something in Lev perks up, wanting to bare his teeth at the challenge - wait, _what_ challenge? "Question is, how can you smell it, Lev? You're a beta." 

"I don't - I don't," Lev stutters, sweating profusely. The scent is a barrage on his senses, wrapping around him like a cat settling down on his chest warm, heavy, and pleasant. "It's - what is it?" Absurdly, worriedly, he feels saliva start to pool in his mouth. His cock _aches,_ and he hunches forward as it seems to grow harder by the second, throbbing painfully. It begins to tent the sweatpants of his tracksuit, and while it's not the first time it's happened, it's the first time it's happened while everyone's eyes are on him. 

A breakfast tray clatters to the floor, and the sound cracks so sharply through Lev's eardrums that claps his hands over his ears and flinches, uncaring that he jams his elbow into the person sitting next to him - Kai, Lev thinks, no - knows, instinctively, because he can somehow smell Kai too. 

Lev's skin itches, suddenly far too tight on his body, and he fists his hands in his hair with a whimper as every nerve ending in his body sets alight at the same time. 

"What _is_ this," he whines, or tries to. Opening his mouth to talk was a bad idea, because all at once, he can taste the scent. It floods over his tongue, silky smooth, like the cream from an eclair. 

Lev drinks it up as if he were a dying man in a desert, drawing deep, gasping breaths that echo the rhythm of the pulse in his dick. 

"Lev," Kai says softly, from - what, three feet away? Lev looks up - the rest of the team has backed off, left their seats, and are standing a safe distance away, murmuring amongst themselves as they watch Lev with pinched and worried faces. Kai's the only one remotely close to him. With effort, Lev turns his head - stiff on his neck - to glance at him, and winces when the force of Kai’s gaze urges him to look down. 

"Sorry," Kai says abruptly, and Lev feels the pressure on the back of his head lighten. "That's - I forgot how strong a gaze can feel to a new alpha." 

_A new alpha?_

"That's not right, Kai-san," Lev croaks. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out light that seems far too bright and big thoughts that he’s not ready to tackle. "I’m a beta." Kai hums, scratching the back of his neck, and Lev wrinkles his nose as his ultra-sensitive hearing pinpoints every hair follicle Kai disturbs with the gesture. 

"Ah, I don't think that's really the case, Lev," Kai says gently. His voice is kind. "Your senses are..." He searches for a word. “They’re going haywire, right?” 

Lev nods, wishing he could hang his mouth open and pant like a dog to taste the nuances of that sultry, tantalizing scent. 

Kai lowers his voice. "And your - well, your dick hurts, too? Throbbing, kind of? In a bad way?" Lev's face burns, ashamed at having to get a _sex talk_ from his teammate - he knows the basics! - but he nods, shifting restlessly, trying to find some position to alleviate the unforgiving rigidity of his cock. 

"That's your knot," Kai says apologetically. Lev makes an undignified noise, and his eyes snap open to level Kai with an incredulous glance.

"It's only going to get worse from here, Lev. You should -" Kai breaks off, glancing sidelong at someone. Lev follows his line of sight to see Kuroo, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. "I think you need to go to an empty room to wait this out in peace. We can have someone bring your things." 

"No!" Lev bursts out. His voice sounds loud to his own ears, bouncing off the tile of the cafeteria, but he doesn't care. They want to take him away from the scent! The scent that smells so good! "I want to know what that scent is!" 

"It's nothing important," Kuroo drawls, pushing himself up from the wall in a deliberately casual way. He drops his arms, and something in Lev settles: a defensive urge he hadn't even realized was there until it wasn't. "Probably something tasty we'll have for lunch later." 

_He's mocking me._ Rage kindles so fast in Lev's chest that he doesn't have a chance to censor himself before he snaps, "That's a lie and you know it, Kuroo-san." 

Kuroo doesn't take the bait, a narrowing of his eyes the only indication that he'd heard what Lev said, but his smile remains fixed on his face. 

"Presenting a bit too late to challenge me, baby alpha, but nice try."

Lev wants to smack the smile off Kuroo's face. He slams his hands on the table with a growl, shooting up from the table and preparing to launch himself across it - but the change in altitude makes him dizzy, and he stumbles over his seat. He gasps, cracking his elbow on the table as he tries to steady himself. A starburst of pain radiates across his arm, and he whimpers, the fight in him dissipating immediately.

Warily, Kai inches closer to Lev, hands extended in a placating gesture. Lev watches it in his periphery, cradling his elbow, and wonders why no one will tell him what the scent is. 

Yaku-san would tell it to him straight. 

His heart pounds as he pictures it in his mind's eye: Yaku darting in, taking everyone to task for keeping him in the dark, doling out scoldings and forceful laughter in equal measure, before turning to Lev, looking up at him with fierce eyes, and - 

And - 

Lev slams his eyes shut again, curling his hands in his pants and trying to cut off that familiar train of thought before it even begins. It's _Yaku-san,_ his senpai, and even if he's an omega he'd never - but that was when Lev was a _beta_ \- so, maybe...? 

His dick flexes, and he shudders. 

A light touch on his arm is enough to jerk him back to the present. It takes every ounce of Lev's self-control to peer up at Kai without growling at the invasion of his personal space. The worry in his senpai's eyes, almost palpable, checks his fury.

"Empty room, Lev," Kai says firmly, not unkindly. "Shibayama will take you." 

Lev frowns. A rumble starts in his chest. He looks down, surprised. That's _twice_ it's done that without his approval. 

His ears catch the whisper of Shibayama's slippers on the tile floor. "Hey, Haiba-kun," Shibayama says. Lev glances up, wondering why, out of all his teammates, Kai asked beta, tiny, nonthreatening Shibayama to - oh.

_Answered your own question, didn't you?_ The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Yaku-san. 

Shibayama's natural scent smells of laundry soap, comforting, and Lev's put mostly at ease by the way he doesn't treat Lev like a loaded gun. "After you," Shibayama says, bowing, gesturing towards the cafeteria door. The sea of his teammates parts, opening up a clear path to freedom, to - the scent. 

He makes his decision all at once, standing up slowly to avoid any more mishaps, and leaves the room with Shibayama at his back. He spares a baleful look at Kuroo before he exits, who just grins at him - honestly, what kind of captain - well. It doesn't matter. All that matters now is finding that scent, which is stronger now that they're in the corridor, with no other food smells to dilute it, and as Shibayama leads him towards the classrooms being used as bedrooms for the camp, Lev feels his scalp start to tingle and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. 

Shibayama chatters away, unconcerned with Lev's predicament - or unaware, more likely - and this time, when the urge surfaces, Lev can't help but let his mouth fall open as he takes a deep breath and scents the air. 

It's coming from another hallway. 

He turns sharply, shaking off Shibayama's arm. The "Lev, _wait!_" falls on deaf ears as Lev takes off at a run. 

There's no conscious thought running through his head. His blood surges in his veins as his heart strains to meet the demands of a growing body, new and improved and one hundred fifty percent _stronger._ An alpha - alpha! - strong enough to - to - 

Lev grunts as he careens into a wall, taking a corner too fast to slow down properly. The scent is richer now, headier, and Lev's never been drunk but he imagines that this sharply-focused intention, hazily irritated at the idea of any extraneous thought, is what it would feel like. 

The door shakes underneath him as he crashes into it. _Another obstacle._ The wood is unforgiving against his body as as he flattens himself against it and butts his nose against the surface in hopes of getting anything else - anything more - any clues, any tips, on what’s happening. 

He tries to quiet his breathing as noises start to filter through the door. Soft cries. Hitching sobs. Low, comforting murmurs. 

"Kenma - please, I need -" - a tremulous breath - "You can't leave me like this, I'll -" 

“You know I can’t do that, Yaku-san." Kenma’s voice. Quiet and firm. "I can't knot you." The gentle static of rustling blankets meets Lev's ears, giving him an ample amount of time to reflect on the fact that this scent is - it's - 

"Yaku-san," Lev breathes. He bangs his fist against the door. It shudders under the force of his onslaught. "Yaku-san!" 

"Put it _in,_ Kenma, god, do it!" Yaku-san sounds irritable, all tired and screechy and Lev can just picture the way his tiny fists beat against the bed as he waits to be filled.

Lev moans, shoving his hardness up against the door. 

Yaku-san starts sobbing, big, gasping breaths pressed into a bedspread - maybe a pillow - if Lev were there Yaku-san would only be crying tears of _joy,_ tears of pleasure, whimpering about how big and how good his knot is.

Pain lances through his stomach, bright and hot. It burns, it _hurts,_ and he doubles over, clutching his middle as his gut churns and his skin boils. His vision goes hazy through the tears that spring to his eyes.

"Yaku-san," he says, his voice small, and it sounds pitiful, but his fingers spasm at the doorknob anyway, unable to turn it. 

"Lev!" Shibayama. Close, _far_ too close.

Lev snarls, pain instantaneously forgotten, whirling around and springing towards Shibayama to pin him against the wall with an arm across his throat. Shibayama’s eyes are wide, his chest heaving, as he fights for breath. Lev bares his teeth and presses his arm down harder, shoving home his point that Shibayama has transgressed the boundaries of… of what? What has Shibayama done?

Lev shakes his head, the confusion briefly clearing the way for his rational thought. Shibayama whimpers, and his nails dig into into Lev’s arm with tiny pinpricks of pain, and it’s that sensation that catapults him back into reality.

Lev rips his arm away from Shibayama and stumbles backward, landing on his ass with a horrified gasp at his own behavior. The sobbing from inside the room stops, trailing off into little sniffles. Lev can't help the way his gaze darts to the door, wondering if there'll be any resistance to him entering the room at all now that Kenma and Yaku-san aren't busy fucking through the current wave of his heat.

_Yaku-san's heat._

Lev had no idea that's what a heat smelled like. How do alphas pretend not to notice a scent like that? 

"Lev." Shibayama's voice is raspy. Lev wishes he could be struck by lightning where he stands. _He_ did that. To a friend. To a beta. A member of his... pack?

"I'm so sorry!" Lev blurts, scooting back towards the end of the hallway. "I'll - bathroom, now!" 

He flees, too cowardly to look Shibayama in the eye. 

He doesn't choose the bathroom _farthest_ away, though, as the one closest to the omega room is beckoning to him like some sort of olfactory siren song. Siren scent. 

Lev locks the door behind him as he realizes, with a start, that there are wet towels hung up on the drying racks, and one of them carries the scent he's been hunting this whole time. Lev’s vision closes in; narrows into a predatory thing.

He teeters towards it, leaning a hand against the wall for balance as he lights upon it with single-minded focus. It's an ordinary towel: white terrycloth, a little damp, almost threadbare. But it carries Yaku-san's heat scent. A faint whiff of it. 

Lev yanks it down from the rack and buries his face in it with a moan. His dick jerks again, angrily hard, tender and pulsing, stretching his pants so tight over his crotch that it’s hard to move.

Gritting his teeth, he cautiously shucks off his clothes, stepping out of them and falling to his knees on the bathroom floor. The chill of the tile on his skin fades as he sucks in a breath, opening his mouth against the towel and dragging his tongue against it. 

It’s filthy, but. He could almost imagine Yaku-san was here.

A shooting pain at the base of his dick is the only warning he gets before a burning wash of lava spills over his skin and takes over his consciousness. He yells, _screams_ at the crackling heat of the flames licking at his body, but through it all he keeps his face in the towel, chasing the small piece of comfort that only Yaku-san's scent can give. 

"Yaku-san," he cries, writhing against the floor. "I want - I _want._" Lev doesn't even know what all he wants.

He wants his head on Yaku-san's lap as Yaku-san rakes his fingers through his hair. He wants Yaku-san to poke his cheek and tell him he's being a baby so Lev has the righteous inspiration to hop up, pain forgotten, and declare that he's _not_ a baby, no, and, in fact, he's going to be the best alpha there’s ever been, better even than Kenma, or Kai, or Kuroo.

Sadly, the thing that brings him out of the haze of pain isn't Yaku-san's fingers in his hair, but a pounding on the door. Kai's voice filters through. 

"Lev! _Lev!_" 

Curled up in the fetal position, Lev moans. Even the small movement of his vocal cords is too much for his overheated, overclocked body. 

Kai's voice is softer this time. "Lev, open the door." 

Lev closes his eyes, nosing against the towel. "Can't move," he slurs. "Hurts." 

A murmur of voices. Kai's voice, slightly raised, and then receding footsteps. 

"Alright, Lev," a familiar voice drawls. Lev's lips twist into a sneer at the patronizing tone in Kuroo's voice. "Luckily, as Captain, I get the pleasure of shepherding you through this situation.” Lev doesn’t think Kuroo feels very lucky at all. “And here’s the news: you’re going to have to rub one out.”

Lev is abruptly swamped with terror. He even move - can't even look at his dick without pain. And he has to touch it? 

"Kuroo-san," Lev says, a quiver in his voice. "I don't want to." 

"It's going to feel a lot better once you do," Kuroo says, and Lev can imagine the begrudging look on his face. "If it helps, I could order you." 

With effort, Lev wrinkles his nose. "Senpai to kouhai?" 

"Pack alpha to newly presented alpha," Kuroo says evenly. 

A pause. 

"_Please_ don't make me order you to jerk it, Lev." 

Kuroo wouldn't ask as an alpha if it weren't something important. Something beneficial for the whole team. Lev knows this. He knows this, but he doesn't like it. 

Slowly, carefully, Lev looks down at the source of pain between his legs. It's not a pretty sight: normally, when hard, his cock gets big and red and... hard. But now there's a plump, unfamiliar bulge at the base of his cock, so blood-flushed that it's purple and engorged. Lev can already see the beginnings of stretch marks where his skin has had to expand, quickly and inelegantly. 

He opens his mouth to complain, just out of habit, but - mmmm. Yaku-san's scent stops him short. Reroutes his train of thought. 

_This is Yaku-san's knot,_ Lev thinks, gazing down at his cock thoughtfully. It belongs to him, after all. It only appeared when he smelled Yaku-san's heat. 

Precome beads at the tip, glistening in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. _I should take good care of it._ The thought is a rock splashing into a still pond, radiating wavelets as it goes. _Yaku-san would want me to make it the best it can be. To improve it._

Lev carefully wraps his hand around the knot. Absurdly, squeezing it seems to alleviate some of the pain, even as his skin screams at the touch, and he trembles as he strokes his dick once, twice. 

It still hurts, but now it's a directed pain: there’s a destination, a goal, and he’s barrelling towards it full steam ahead, and as tears pool in his eyes, he moves his hand faster and faster, hips jerking away from the hot, angry movements even as the rest of him surges forward, seeking momentum, seeking - something he doesn’t quite have words for. 

Lev convulses, slapping the ground and pushing himself halfway off the ground to try and brace himself against the onslaught of sensations crashing through his body. He's lost the ability to form words, but his throat is sore from repressed sobs.

The lights of the bathroom are searingly bright, but they dissolve into a white blur as Lev’s vision goes hazy and unfocused with the tears that spill down his cheeks. _Why does something so good hurt so bad,_ he thinks desperately, doggedly intent on finishing this… marathon, this race to the top, as quick as he can.

His body screams at him to flip over to his front, so he does, clumsily, bracing himself on the arm that holds Yaku-san’s towel. Lev nuzzles it again, spreading it out so he can access any hidden pockets of scent that he missed the first time. 

But as soon as it brushes his nose, he stiffens, the avalanche of feeling in his body crescendoing, dammed up for a single, heartstopping second - before he starts to come.

Lev’s eyes roll back into his head as it crashes through his body like a tsunami, washing him clean of anything other than the tightness in his balls and the aching, throbbing thud of his knot underneath his hand. Lev surrenders to the sensation. 

And something about this feeling - this position - this _scent_ \- Lev gets it. 

Gets why some alphas choose to rut every six months instead of go on suppressants. Gets why some of them would turn to professional sports or thrill-seeking just to take the edge off. 

Because right now - his knot swelling underneath his hands to full size, his body primed for mounting, his senses full of Yaku-san’s scent - Lev feels invincible. Deadly. Every pinprick of pain burns, but it turns into a bonfire, raging against his skin like a scratchy quilt that’s just a little too heavy and infuriating. 

He lunges for the towel, seeking out that scent - the one made for him - the one he was made for - and _bites._

It’s not satisfying at all. Not in the slightest. But for a moment, Lev can believe that he’s getting exactly, wonderfully, what he wants. 

_Yaku-san._

Lev snarls, digging his teeth in. The towel rips; terrycloth comes apart in his mouth, but it’s inconsequential, and he drags the fabric down, down, smearing it against the head of his cock which is somehow miraculously still spilling out streams of come.

His scent mixed with Yaku-san’s feels like inhaling a true breath for the first time - has his breath been foggy his whole life? It’s so _clear_ now; Lev feels his lungs expanding far, farther than they’ve ever been before. He could inhale for the rest of his life, as long as it’s this scent. 

A purr from his chest at the thought. A good one this time, awash with content and happiness at the fact that he’ll have grown more by the time Yaku-san sees him again. 

For a moment, he's suspended in time, like a coin teetering between landing on heads or tails. Everything is calm. Everything is quiet.

And then, with a giant exhale, Lev comes back down to earth. The blood rushing in his ears does its best to hinder the return of his hearing, but if he strains, he can hear Kuroo's voice, pitched low and soft, outside the door.

He opens his eyes - a monumental task - and frowns at the bathroom floor. 

His mouth is very, very dry. Spitting out the scraps of cloth, Lev stares curiously at his knot as he works it through the last aftershocks of his orgasm, unable to fathom this new, permanent attachment to his body. 

It looks alright as far as knots go, he thinks. He’s seen porn, and he knows the average size - knows he’s bigger than that by a _lot,_ and it seems his knot is similarly proportioned. 

The amount of come it produces seems to also be… ginormous. Lev makes a face, scooting off to the side so he doesn’t slip in the puddles and flinching at the cold bite of the bathroom tile against his bare ass. 

The pain from before feels like a banked fire in his bones, lulled to sleep until it roars to life again with a bit of poking and prodding. Lev can ignore it until then. 

“Kuroo-san?” 

“I’m here.” 

“I think I’m done for now.” 

“Great,” Kuroo says, slapping the door. The sound is too loud for Lev’s newly sensitive ears, and he winces. “Congratulations, Lev. You’re a man now.” Lev huffs.

“Let’s clean you up,” another voice adds. Kai. He must’ve come back. “Unlock the door, Lev.” 

Lev uses the wall to heave himself to a standing position, looking mournfully down at the torn pieces of the towel that litter the floor. He doesn’t want to leave them. They feel… special, somehow, even though they’re nothing more than an the odds and ends of what used to be an old, used bath towel, now damp with cooling spunk.

They’ve got Yaku-san’s scent on them, though.

Lev reverently gathers each piece and places them with his tracksuit, bundling them up so they’re masked and hidden by his own scent. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do with them yet, but something in the back of his brain tells him he’ll need them later. Because this - his presentation - has only just started.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the increased chapter count and laugh at the fact that this is what I consider a "slow burn."

Yaku wakes up groggy, disoriented, and alone in bed. It's _cold._ There’s no one beside him. He groans, tossing and turning on the futon as he fights his way out of sleep, and eases a little when he hears an alpha chuff from across the room. So not... totally alone, then. 

"Morning, tiger." The lazy tones of Kuroo's voice drift across the planes of dreamland, and Yaku wrinkles his nose as he blearily opens his eyes. The room swims into focus. The bland, whitewashed ceiling of a school classroom stares down at him, and he can hear the faint beeps and boops of video game music from the same corner Kuroo's voice came from. 

Sighing, Yaku turns over, clutching his blanket closer and squinting at the foggy shapes that make up... Kuroo and Kenma? Yaku sniffs the air, but all he can smell is his own heat scent, and he cringes. 

He rubs his eyes and blinks. Ah. There they are - occupying the spare futon jammed close to the wall on the other side of the room.

Kenma, curled up in Kuroo's lap and glued to a handheld game, doesn't spare Yaku a second glance, but Kuroo grins at him over Kenma's shoulder. "Welcome back to the land of the living." 

Yaku grunts, affronted. "How long?" he asks, yawning. 

"Twenty-six hours," Kenma says bluntly, immersed in his game. Yaku's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. 

"That's pretty short," he says, impressed despite himself. Kuroo beams and ruffles Kenma's hair. Kenma ducks out from under Kuroo's arm. “Nice job, Kenma.”

"It's not Kenma's first time at the rodeo," Kuroo says proudly, his smug scent oozing across the room. Yaku scowls and clamps his thighs shut, unwilling to entertain his body's interested, hopeful reaction. 

"We should try for under twenty hours next time," he says. "I'm - it's exhausting. Not being able to be knotted for that long." 

He doesn't realize how true it is until he says it. Every bone in his body aches, like they've been replaced with steel pipes coated in wax. He's sticky, his hair is matted with sweat, and from prior experience, he knows his ass won't feel normal again for a few days. But even though the rest of him is mostly sated - leaden - a gnawing bite in his stomach reminds him that he hasn't been mated. Fake knots are enough to fool his body during a heat, but in the light of day, he recognizes them for nothing more than what they are: fat hunks of plastic. 

Yaku sighs.

Setting aside his own woes for a moment, Yaku props an arm underneath his pillow and eyes Kenma with a critical gaze. "How are you feeling?" 

Kenma doesn't answer until Kuroo affectionately nips his shoulder. "Quit it, Kuroo," he says shortly. "I'm fine. Can you - this is a really important level, Yaku-san." 

Yaku takes the beratement for what it is and doesn't bother hiding his smile. 

"So, something interesting happened while you both were busy," Kuroo says, making a show of inspecting his fingernails. Yaku waits. 

Tinny battle noises fill the silence. 

Yaku does not possess the mental capacity to play mind games with Kuroo right now. He caves. "And what might that be?" 

"Lev presented," Kuroo says, with the air of someone revealing a great secret. "As an alpha." 

Yaku's jaw drops. Kenma pauses his game. 

_"What?"_ they say simultaneously. Incredulously. Yaku would be tempted to laugh, but he's currently aghast.

It's... not unheard of, for someone to present late, but Yaku had been sure - almost positive - that if anyone was going to shrug off their beta status before the end of high school, it wasn't going to be _Lev_ \- it would be someone like Inuoka, maybe. Someone who was less... something. 

"What triggered it?" Yaku asks, intensely curious. Late presentations are almost always a product of some sort of stressor: environmental, personal, it doesn't matter - but before Kuroo can say anything, before he even opens his mouth, Yaku knows. With a somewhat swooping feeling in his stomach, he _knows._

Thinking back on it, he'd been half-convinced he was delirious with heat, dreaming up some scent to make him drool and beg and present to Kenma like he was Yaku's real alpha. Screwing up his face, Yaku tries to remember. He vaguely recalls banging on the door... some shouting, whining... but at the time, he'd been unconcerned about the logistics, hot and furious and only wanting more and more and _more_ than what Kenma was giving him. 

"It was me," Yaku says faintly. Kuroo, looking disgruntled at having his thunder stolen, deflates, and nods. Kenma resumes his game with a bemused glare at the screen. "What the _hell?_ Is that even a thing?"

Kuroo shrugs. "He smelled you all the way from the cafeteria," he says. "Attacked Shibayama, tried to challenge me. Practically went feral with it." 

Horrifyingly, Yaku feels his cock stir. He curls his body up, shoving down any and all arousing thoughts that might want to shamefully float to the surface at the idea of Lev - an alpha in rut - _breaking down the door_ to his den after smelling the slightest whiff of Yaku's heat scent. 

Kuroo's words catch up to him. Yaku frowns. "He attacked Shibayama?" Kuroo hums, resting his head against the wall as he settles a hand against the small of Kenma's back. 

"We'd asked him to escort Lev back to an empty room, but Lev ran, and when Shibayama followed, he -" Kuroo searches for a word. "Snapped." Yaku feels dizzy. "Then he locked himself in a bathroom and I talked him through popping his first knot so he'd unlock the damn door." Kuroo snorts. "It’s a hell of a presentation, I’ll give him that. He’s not even done yet." 

"I thought I dreamed up his scent," Yaku blurts out. "I didn't - I didn't know it was real." Kenma glances at him sidelong. 

"Real enough," Kuroo says easily, sneaking his hand underneath the waistband of Kenma's boxer shorts to scrape teasingly at the warm planes of skin. Kenma twitches, and Yaku grimaces, searching around in the sheets for something to throw at them before Kuroo can get too many ideas about judgmental things to _say_ or sexy things to _do._

"Hey!" Kuroo yelps, ducking the floppy, knotted dildo that soars his way. It bounces off the wall with a _thwack,_ jostling Kenma, who makes a wounded sound as a warbling noise of defeat erupts from his game. 

"If you’re going to be gross with Kenma, don’t do it in front of me," Yaku orders. A twinge of jealousy rockets through him at the sight of the alpha who'd just seen him through his heat curled up in the lap of someone else. 

"Fair enough," Kuroo says, using the wall to heave himself - and Kenma - up. He stretches, inadvertently showing off a flash of tanned abdomen, and the tantalizing tingle that suffuses Yaku's body at the sight of the long, lean form of Nekoma's pack alpha is irritating and obnoxious.

Kenma doesn't miss it, gazing at Yaku with a ghost of a smile. "Join us when you're done," he offers, in a rare, effusive moment. "Training camp isn't over yet, and I don't want to practice too much with this idiot." 

"Someone's got to whip you two into shape," Yaku says. "Might as well be me." Kuroo grins and flashes him a peace sign as he herds Kenma out the door. 

"See you in a few!" 

The door shuts behind them with a soft click. The sudden silence is deafening, and left alone with his thoughts, Yaku finds himself daydreaming about - of all people! - Lev. 

Yaku thinks it really, really sucks that of all the things his dick could find hot, he finds resolute, contrary alphas to be the one thing that gets him going. 

_Well,_ he amends silently, squirming. _Lev isn't contrary at all, really._

He's the opposite, in fact. Blunt and determined and overt enough with his feelings that Yaku knows any omega he claims is going to be showered with a running commentary of everything Lev's ever thought about them, good or bad. The boy has no _tact._

Yaku has enough presence of mind to know that the keen that rises in his throat is the lingering product of his heat. His dick hasn't softened at all, and only seems to be getting harder at the thought of Lev's intense gaze focused on him in a context so different than that of an aggressively sexless volleyball lesson.

_He's so tall,_ Yaku muses. Normally it just pisses him off - there's no _reason_ anyone needs to be that massive on a daily basis. But now... he pictures Lev looming over him, happy and guileless even as he pins Yaku to the wall with the force of that deliciously attractive scent that had beckoned to Yaku through the door... and maybe one very large hand, resting on his hip... 

Yaku loses the will to fight the wave of heat overtaking his body.

With a muffled curse, Yaku rolls over to his front, grabbing a pillow and jamming it between his legs. The first roll of his hips is instant relief, and he moans, dropping his head as he works up a steady rhythm, grinding his dick against the firm give of the pillow. 

"Fuck," Yaku whispers, screwing his eyes shut. He's going to come to the thought of Lev - stupid, determined, 'Going-to-be-the-ace-in-two-weeks' Lev, bursting through the door and mounting him like a beast. Yaku trembles, electricity sparking over his skin as he imagines Lev's hands settling on his hips, stuffing Yaku full of his knot, biting at the nape of his neck to keep him quiet as Yaku surrenders every bit of his dignity to the raw alpha power blanketing him from behind. 

Yaku's hips stutter, his rhythm going out of sorts, and he has just enough of his wits about him to bite down on the pillow to stifle a sob as slick trickles down his thigh. His thoughts drift towards the abstract as he chases his orgasm: Lev mating him after the frighteningly strong adrenaline of a match, in front of his team and everyone; Lev avidly volunteering to see Yaku through his next heat with a gleam in his eye that fools absolutely no one; Lev dirty and battle-worn and smelling of victory as he comes back to Yaku in a filmy harem outfit, spread open on a banquet table on his hands and knees - 

The last one hits Yaku hard enough to actually tip him over the edge, and as his cock jerks, spilling against the pillow, Yaku groans and lets his hips tip up and back in an instinctive bid for a knot.

There's not one, but Yaku allows the warmth to course through his veins for a few moments longer, reaching underneath him to work the last few drops of come from his dick and enjoying the vague idea of Lev eating him out until he screams. 

It’s with a resigned sense of self-disgust that Yaku vows to throw away the Arabian Nights-themed BL manga he has hidden in his nightstand when he gets home.  


* * *

  
Yaku is nothing short of ravenous when he enters the gym, freshly showered and feeling like a real human again. A trace of guilt settles in his mind as he scans the loud, rowdy room, double-checking that Lev’s really not there (he isn’t) before he settles down on a bench and begins to put on his volleyball sneakers.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Lev. Yaku’s just. Not quite sure what his body is going to do if - _when_ \- he does. He needs time to prepare and think up a... battle strategy. Possibly some defense maneuvers.

A granola bar is suddenly thrust into his field of vision. “Here, Yaku-san!” _Food._

Eagerly reaching up to take it, Yaku gets a look at his savior and freezes.

There’s no obvious marks on Shibayama’s throat - not if you’re not looking for them. But the skin is slightly shadowed, and his voice is raspier than usual. 

His heart pounds, but Shibayama’s still waiting for an answer, beaming down at him. 

“Thank you, Shibayama,” Yaku says, pasting a smile on his face. “This is exactly what I needed!” The praise from his upperclassman, stilted as it may sound, makes Shibayama flush. 

“It was Kai-san’s idea,” he admits. “He said you’d probably come straight here after you were done with your heat.” 

Yaku snorts, tearing the wrapper off the granola bar and stuffing half in his mouth. “That’s the issue with friends,” he says, voice muffled. “They always know you too well.” Shibayama laughs softly, plopping down on the bench next to him, and they watch the scrimmage in silence while Yaku finishes his granola bar, wincing at each kill and nodding impressively at each block. It takes an entire set before Yaku feels brave enough to broach the elephant between them. 

“So,” he begins awkwardly. “So I heard Lev lost it when he smelled my, er, heat.” 

Instead of cringing, like Yaku had expected him to, Shibayama actually looks thoughtful. “Yeah," he says. "For the first part of it, he wasn’t… wild, really,” Shibayama says slowly. “He kept covering his ears, closing his eyes, trying not to look at Kai-san or Kuroo-san…” 

“Overwhelmed,” Yaku supplies, nodding. He’d heard Kuroo and Kenma talk about their respective presentations. “When an alpha presents, all of their senses sharpen at once.” 

Kenma had called it _'the worst combination of a set of driver updates and an OS update that you can’t infinitely delay by clicking “Remind me in 4 hours.”'_

Shibayama brightens. “That’s exactly what it was! He didn’t get all -” Shibayama makes clawing motions with his hands; Yaku nods, understanding completely - “Until he smelled you really close by.” 

Yaku sighs.

“Yeah.” Shibayama looks at this hands a moment, squeezing them into fists. "I didn't really think I was weak until he just... pushed me off like I was nothing. Like a speck of dust, Yaku-san." 

Yaku feels a burst of affection for Shibayama and nudges him with his shoulder to grab his attention. "You did your best," Yaku says firmly. "An alpha during their first presentation is no joke. They..." Yaku searches for the words. “They’re maxed out. There’s no winning unless you’ve got what they want.” _And apparently I had what Lev wanted._ He shivers.

Shibayama gazes at him raptly, in awe of his carnal knowledge, and Yaku blushes. "Plus, Lev's a giant who doesn't know his own strength," Yaku adds tartly. "A menace. I bet his rut is the same." 

"I guess I’ll have to wait for someone else to present so I can try again," Shibayama says with a sigh, drooping. Yaku grins and ruffles his hair. "Hey!" 

"That's the spirit," Yaku says, getting to his feet as the shrill screech of the whistle ends the last set. "Come on. You can’t get stronger if you don’t practice."  


* * *

  
As much as Lev's a menace, Yaku has to admit that Nekoma's volleyball now lacks a certain spark when Lev's not flailing around on the court.

_Spark, or element of chaos?_ Yaku wonders, swooping in to receive a missed block. He's annoyed. He's played volleyball like this for years, working to make his team the best that they can possibly be - or, better yet, to draw out the potential that they already _had,_ and just couldn't find on their own. First years are unknown and unpolished, but they almost always bring strength and skill, and Yaku had been looking forward to combining their talents with those of the existing Nekoma team during this training camp. 

But now that he's here, it doesn't seem quite as fulfilling as it was. 

Yaku can shout tips and tricks, sure. Suggestions, even, if he deems them necessary. But Kuroo and Kenma are both on his team for this particular scrimmage, and they barely need outside direction: just as a well-oiled machine reliably keeps on completing each cycle, so does the partnership of Kuroo and Kenma keep on serving up points, much to Yamamoto's roaring chagrin. Yaku finds himself almost _bored_ with the predictable rhythm of each set, and frustrated with Nekomata for structuring the scrimmage team like this.

God, but Lev would be a welcome distraction right about now. His spastic but well-meaning practice moves would give the team something to rally around, regardless of whether or not they actually resulted in points. Yaku blinks as he realizes that's not completely unlike the dynamic that Bokuto has with the Fukurodani team, though, of course, Bokuto has the skills and power to see his team through every set. 

_Is that the kind of player Lev could become one day?_

A volleyball whizzes past his ear, smacking down the back of the court. Yaku scowls at the offending spiker - Yamamoto, of course - and shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the game, boring though it may be.

Still, the lingering effects of his heat cause him to sweat more than usual as he dives and squats and block follows, and it's a messy, grimy three sets. Nekomata calls them all to a group huddle, and Yaku startles as he realizes Kenma's managed to wiggle in close, between him and Kuroo, and is gazing intently at Yaku. His scent is unusually strong.

Yaku is flustered and confused until Kenma reaches up and pats his cheek, dragging his hand down Yaku's neck until it rests on his scent gland. _Ah._ Yaku tilts his neck, offering access to the alpha who'd just seen him through his heat. The one whose scent he had promptly showered off and sweated out.

Kenma huffs and swipes his thumb across Yaku's gland. It's a small, instinctive gesture from Kenma - a courtesy, really, but Yaku’s heat hasn’t left him _completely,_ and the slight touch does send an involuntary shiver down his spine. Yaku scowls at Kuroo and makes a rude gesture when he glances at them, pointedly sniffing the air, but Kuroo just ignores it, tugging Kenma closer with a grin and patting Yaku’s head with his own absurdly long arm.

Yaku feels justified for the warning growl he sends Kuroo's way, along with the swat to his stupid face. He is surrounded by stupid, idiotic giants.

He does feel a little bad when he accidentally hits Kenma instead.


	3. Chapter Three

If all ruts end with him being this disgusting, Lev doesn't know if they're worth it after all.

The light in the classroom is dim, signaling late afternoon or maybe... evening? It's hard to tell. Every bone in his body aches fiercely, but it's not dissimilar to the feeling of a growth spurt, which he's used to, and at least his dick is soft now.

Not for nothing, though. Most of his naked body is covered with crusted, flaking cum, and he's never felt so shameful - so - _debauched_, to borrow a word from Fukunaga, in his life.

Lev really, really hopes that his back doesn't stick to the futon when he tries to get up.

Not quite willing to brave that particular adventure just yet, he closes his eyes with a sigh and stretches, hearing his joints crack reassuringly. _"There's nothing reassuring about hearing your body make weird noises!"_ Yaku-san had said once, grimacing as he watched Lev pop his knuckles. _"You only get one body, Lev, so take care of it!"_

Lev feels a wave of interest roll through his body at the thought of Yaku-san, tightening his muscles and making his stomach shiver delightfully. The cloth pieces he'd saved from the bathroom have long since been destroyed, bitten and shredded and covered with the same fluids that currently cover the rest of him. It had been nice though. Using them. Smelling them. 

What _wasn't_ nice was how he'd behaved before that. Lev sighs heavily. Now that he's clearheaded and on the far edge of his rut, he understands just how – how terrible and unacceptable his behavior had been. It shouldn’t matter that it had been his first rut! He’d acted exactly like those gross, leering alphas that appear in some of the more questionable dating games that Kenma plays.

Lev frowns. He's going to have to make it up to Shibayama somehow. Maybe an apology. Or an ice pop. Four ice pops. There are some things that a newly presented alpha has to figure out for oneself, after all, and he's pretty sure that boundaries are one of them.

... Shibayama deserves something way bigger than four ice pops, what is he _thinking?_ An alpha in rut has to follow the same rules as an alpha _not_ in rut! Kuroo hadn't gone wild yesterday, right? Neither had Kenma, to Lev's knowledge, and… and. Kenma's the alpha that Yaku-san chose to help him through his heat.

Lev lets his eyes drift open to gaze at the ceiling while he sorts through this tangled mess of thoughts.

Yaku-san's heat scent was... _incredible._ Lev swallows hard. Just thinking about it makes him feel dizzy. Lev doesn't know if it's because of his crush or what, but he wonders, now, with his more mature scent and his alpha status, if Yaku-san would even consider... well, would he...? Is an alpha even what he wants outside of a heat?

The tantalizing images that had sustained him during his heat parade through his mind’s eye: Yaku-san pinned underneath him with tears in his eyes; Yaku-san's red cheeks, usually only red when he yells, but now red for a whole different reason as he bounces on Lev's cock; Yaku-san's - Yaku-san's _hole,_ puffy and sticky with cum and slick.

Lev slaps his hands to his cheeks, embarrassed at the detour his thoughts have made while he was trying to contemplate the _future_ of his _relationship_ with his _senpai._

Yaku-san's going to take one look at him and just know all the dirty things Lev's ever thought about him, Lev knows it. It terrifies him. It excites him.

He glances down at his dick, which is definitely not soft anymore. He's slowly getting used to the faint plumpness at the base when it gets hard now, and he's learned that it feels really, really good if he squeezes it while he comes. It's just... different than what he's had for most of his life, and he can't help but be fascinated by it every chance he gets. Lev tilts his head to the side, examining the knot from a new angle.  
... Is it _crooked?_

Lev scrambles for his phone, already creating the panicked search in his mind: _'knot crooked,' 'knot crooked normal'_ \- but the notifications that float into existence on his lock screen stop him short.

**From Shibayama:** Get better soon, Haiba-kun! Kuroo says he expects you to be at least 12% better at receives now that you've presented!  
**From Shibayama:** Oh and Kenma says that there's scent-neutralizing soap in the locker room showers!

Lev gasps. These texts are important for two reasons.

Number one: if Kenma's talking to Shibayama, that means he's done with Yaku-san's heat. Which _means_ that Yaku-san is already up. Which means _furthermore_ that Lev can potentially see Yaku-san as soon as he takes a shower.

Number two: Shibayama texting him probably means that he's not mad at him for what happened. He even used exclamation points!

His thumbs fly across the keyboard.

**From Lev:** Thank u Shibayama!!! Tel Kuroo that its going to be 100%!!! 200% even!!  
**From Lev:** Also plz give my number to Kenma sinec he lost it!!  
**From Lev:** Also I'm really sorry abut the growling and hurting u during my rut.

The reply comes almost immediately, even though the original texts are a few hours old.

**From Shibayama:** Ahaha, he says he has your number, but he doesn't want to deal with the enthusiasm...? And sure, I'll let Kuroo know! 😄

The little dots that indicate typing bounce up and down for a while. Lev bites his lip and stares at the screen.

**From Shibayama:** It's okay, Haiba-kun, I know it's really overwhelming for an alpha during their first presentation (at least, that's what Yaku-san said?), so as long as you don't do it again then I think it’s okay.

The noise that comes out of Lev's mouth sounds like a wounded duck. Yaku-san already _knows_ about his misbehavior.

Lev droops, but his dick does not, and he stares at it, contemplating jerking off - those images from a moment ago are very enticing - but he's still weirded out about the possibility of a crooked knot, and also, the crusted spunk caught in his pubes is pulling at his skin every time he moves. 

A shower it is.

Lev's glad no one is around to hear his disgusted squeal when he tries to get up and realizes that he is, of course, stuck to the futon.

  


* * *

  


After a few more games and a satisfying conclusion to his short day of training, Yaku hastily bows out of dinner so he can beat everyone else to the baths.

It's not that he doesn't like his team. He loves his team, and the lingering effects of the heat in his body urge him to spend as much time with them as he can; roughhousing, joking, ruffling hair, pushing and shoving to get to the the food line, soaking in the feeling of _pack._ But he wants the luxury of privacy a little more.

A quick text to Kenma ensures he'll squirrel some food away for a late dinner, at least, though Yaku wonders if he would have done it without asking - some primal instinct urging him to shower an omega with resources and safety. It's a nice thought, but Yaku quite frankly doesn't put enough stock in that aspect of Kenma's alpha instincts to risk going without dinner.

His shower is quick and perfunctory, rushing through his routine so he can get to his favorite part: the soak in the tub. The water is as hot as he can stand it, enough that he has to acclimate to it one limb at a time before slowly sinking into the depths. The tension seeps out of his body immediately, the silence, heat, and solitude doing their respective jobs. Yaku rests his head against the lip of the tub and sighs, trying to quiet the thoughts racing around his head so he can begin to sort them out.

A creak of the door and the shuffle of slippers has him instantly on edge. Yaku grits his teeth. He'd just wanted _one_ moment to himself -  
He forces his body to relax, biting back a childish whine. This is training camp. Moments like this are rare and hard to come by, and he was lucky to get what little time he did. He allows himself one sullen splash before he lightly calls out, “In here.”

In retrospect, he should have known that his plan to avoid Lev before he'd sorted out all of his conflicting feelings was in no way realistic. Yaku feels that realization like a punch to the gut as Lev peeks around the corner, his eyes going wide, jaw dropping as he fixes his gaze upon Yaku.

"Uh," Yaku says, sinking further into the water. "You - Lev -" Possible phrases fly around his brain: _Get out, what are you doing here, take a shower somewhere else -_

But it's clear Lev's already taken a shower, probably while the rest of them were practicing, if his damp hair and muted scent are anything to go by.

His scent.

Even though it’s not as strong as it was yesterday when he'd smelled it through the door, Yaku imagines he can see it curling through the air towards him, weaving through the steam to delicately grip his every sense and demand that he pay attention to the rutting alpha in front of him.

A drop of water from Lev’s hair slides down his collarbone. Yaku can’t help but watch its path with wide eyes.

"Yaku-san," Lev says. Yaku watches Lev's hands go white-knuckled where they grip the wall. "You smell really good. _Really_ good, better than -" He cuts himself off, and the sudden silence is loud against the tiled walls and floors of the bath.

Neither of them move. Lev's scent grows stronger, thicker, and Yaku struggles to keep his composure at the command inherent within it. _I'm here, I want you, be mine._ By all rights he shouldn’t even – it’s a demand, really, there’s none of the politeness Yaku’s accustomed to from alphas he knows when they get too hotheaded and have to rein in their scents, rubbing the back of their necks sheepishly before averting their eyes. It’s… refreshing, in a way. The frank bluntness of it.

A hot, blazing ember of warmth flares to life inside him, dampened only slightly by common sense. This is Lev. His kouhai. Fantasizing is one thing - harmless, because no one gets hurt, there's no feelings involved, and the probability that the other person will find out is close to zero - but - _acting_ on those fantasies? Lev would be unbearable if he knew Yaku thought about him in any special way. Even worse if Yaku validated those feelings by doing something about it.

But.

Yaku’s breath goes heavy in his chest as he watches Lev watch him without blinking. Goosebumps flutter to life on his arms under the weight of that stare. His muscles hum with a staticky current that the hot water does nothing to dissipate, a humming that seems to grow stronger the longer this strange, crackling energy radiates between them, fogging over Yaku’s brain and and making rational thought seem unreachable. His internal arguments from a moment ago seem inconsequential.

He swallows harshly, and Lev's greedy stare tracks the motion of his throat, watching, waiting. Waiting to pounce. But he isn't. Somehow, he's keeping himself in check, even though he'd almost broken down a door to get to Yaku when he first presented.

Yaku feels himself start to get slick.

"Lev," Yaku says again. "Come here."

Lev inhales sharply, one hand darting down to his dick, presumably - Yaku’s line of sight is blocked by the wall. But otherwise, he remains still, though he wets his lips with a pink, promising tongue. "Yaku-san, are you. Are you telling me I can -"

"Come _here,_" Yaku says impatiently. Now that he's decided to capitulate to his baser needs, he’s sure. He wants Lev. Wants to try him on for size. He wants that scent seeping into his pores, covering him, he wants to be fucked by this alpha who liked his scent so much that he popped his first knot for it.

Lev stumbles over his feet as he makes a beeline for Yaku, his track pants riding dangerously low on his hips. He stops at the edge, quivering, and Yaku pushes himself to the far side of the tub so he can size Lev up without breaking his neck.

Yaku squints. Has Lev gotten even taller since he last saw him a day and a half ago?

Lev blinks, nose twitching, then frowns. “You smell like Kenma-san.” Yaku belatedly remembers Kenma marking him on the court, earlier, and spares half an incredulous thought for alpha senses. “I don’t like it.”

“Are you going to do anything about it?” Yaku asks, narrowing his eyes. Lev looks like he’s one straw away from breaking entirely: a wet spot on the front of his pants, hands clenching and unclenching uncontrollably, a feverish glint in his eyes, and that lavish, ridiculous scent.  
Lev gapes, then regroups. “No! Or - only if you want me to, Yaku-san. I can hold back!”

For a certain, shining moment, Yaku actually believes he can.

Later, he’ll tell himself that it was this moment of weakness that made him spread his legs and give Lev a decisive jerk of his chin. But he’ll know that’s not true. His moment of weakness is when Lev gasps at the sight, then splashes into the tub with his pants and slippers still on. 

Yaku snorts. 

Lev blushes, wrestling them off underneath the water before heaving them over the side with a _plop_ of sodden fabric. He surges closer to Yaku, moving between his legs and bracketing him with one ridiculously long arm on either side of Yaku’s body.

Yaku boldly tilts his chin up to look at him, refusing to acknowledge just how startled he is by how much he likes Lev’s scent, which mingles gently with his own in the swirl of steam above the tub. His mouth waters.

“Yaku-san,” Lev says softly, and oh, he’s close, so close. Yaku could count his eyelashes. He’s unfairly stunning from a foot away, details that Yaku hadn’t seen from his quick once-over leaping out at him: the angular cut of his jaw, sharpened by his presentation, and collarbones grown even more prominent as they prepare to support muscle he can and will have as he grows older. His flawless skin is flushed with the heat of the water, and his eyes sparkle with a combination of rut and… lust? _No,_ Yaku realizes, stricken. _Affection._

A wave of emotion crashes through his chest, something huffy and soft and embarrassed. He grimaces, and Lev makes a confused noise low in his throat, his scent billowing out around him and pooling hot and liquid in Yaku’s stomach. Yaku wants to swallow it whole, roll in it until he’s warm and protected and sated and _full._ His cock starts to fill, and he trembles with restrained need, wanting to grind against Lev’s - everything - but - for once, Lev’s too far away.

“Lev,” he says, voice husky. He clears his throat even as Lev’s pupils grow noticeably larger at the timbre, and the omega in Yaku is smug, preening. He opens his mouth to continue - _'You can touch me'_ \- but before he can, Lev’s slipshod control shatters with a pitched groan and he claims Yaku’s mouth.

The kiss is a scorching heat that consumes Yaku like a wildfire does a forest, sweeping through his body from the inside out with no regard for propriety or collateral damage. 

The ferocity takes Yaku off-guard and he flounders for a moment, but as Lev’s tongue meets his own he selfishly lets himself be swept away, moaning and hooking his legs behind Lev’s knees to seek purchase against the desperate slide of slippery skin. Lev gets a hand behind Yaku’s back – another behind his head – and pulls him closer, nestling Yaku’s body against his, almost protective if it weren’t for the hard grind of their cocks against each other. Yaku gasps, voice teetering on a whine at the friction, the intensity, and Lev snarls into his mouth as he rakes his nails down the arch of Yaku’s back like he owns it. With a cry, Yaku’s back bows, rutting up against Lev and his stupidly broad alpha body.

“Lev –“ Yaku tries, but Lev isn’t listening, his mouth now on Yaku’s neck and licking curiously at Yaku’s scent gland. The accidental scrape of his teeth, forgotten in his enthusiasm, makes Yaku’s eyes roll back in his head. Lev’s bulk pins Yaku to the edge of the tub, wet skin and hot scents gliding against each other in kind. 

“Lev,” he says again, a keening moan. Lev’s head darts up, his eyes searching Yaku’s face intently. Yaku forces one of his fists open and grabs Lev’s arm, pulling it down, down, down towards his dick. “Touch me.”

Lev huffs, an excited, wild sound, and grabs both of their dicks in one hand. It’s enough to make Yaku clap a hand over his mouth to muffle his yell, hips jerking up into Lev’s grasp as he falls apart.

He shatters into a million pieces as Lev strokes them, his unwavering gaze roving over Yaku’s face while his hand moves faster and faster. “Does this feel good, Yaku-san? I’ve wanted to – I mean, not just when I presented, but – you look so pretty – I want to – “ Again, he cuts himself off, biting his lip, and all Yaku can do is stare at the way his teeth press white indents into the pink skin. Yaku wants to taste them. He bares his own teeth, sliding a hand through Lev’s hair and tangling his fingers through the strands.

“Make me come or don’t bother trying,” he says, words shakier than he intends them to be. His hole is slick, his dick is hard, he’s got a willing partner on him, and he wants to _come._

Lev makes an enthusiastic noise, speeding his hand up, clutching tighter, fastening his lips to Yaku’s neck, and Yaku throws his head back with a yell as he spills across Lev’s hand.

“Fuck,” he sobs, yanking Lev’s head down so he can breathe in the scent at the base of his neck. “Fuck, fuck – stupid –"

Raw and unfiltered, Lev’s scent hits Yaku’s senses like an avalanche. His skin feels alive under Yaku’s tongue, sweaty and taut, and as Yaku’s tongue skims across the dewy stretch of skin that comprises Lev’s scent gland, the urge to bite strikes him like a bolt of lightning. He reels back, swearing, as a rumble starts in Lev’s chest.

Lev’s hand hasn’t stopped. In fact, he’s moving it faster, chasing his own release, but it’s too _much_ when Yaku’s already come, and he bats Lev’s hand away with a grunt. Lev whines but lets go, jerking his hand back with more force than is probably necessary. 

They stare at each other, their breath coming too quickly to calm either of them down, as they calculate their next move. Lev’s scent still lingers on his mouth, Yaku realizes, as he licks his lips. Even though he’s just come, he can feel himself getting hard again. The first orgasm was just spark to tinder. The greedy fire within him demands tribute. 

“Yaku-san, I really want to come,” Lev blurts out. His hand strays towards his cock, but stops short. His nostrils flare. Tilting his head to the side, he peers at Yaku delightedly. “Again?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Yaku warns, planting a hand on Lev’s chest and pushing him back to the other side of the tub. Lev looks briefly hurt, until he realizes Yaku’s climbing on top of him, and then, and _then._

That stupid, Lev-sized dick of Lev’s is resting against his ass, heavy and thick. Lev’s hips twitch underneath him. Yaku glances over his shoulder: the plush head of Lev’s cock breaches the water, and as Yaku watches, precome beads temptingly at the slit. Yaku narrows his eyes and turns back around, his mind working furiously to determine if he’s open enough to take it.

“You still smell like Kenma-san,” Lev says frankly. Yaku scrunches up his nose.

“I’ve taken a shower and a bath,” Yaku reminds him. “There’s no way I can still smell like Kenma.” 

Lev’s jaw juts out mulishly. “You do,” he insists, and before Yaku knows what’s happening, Lev’s hands have slid around to cup his ass, squeezing, digging in. Yaku melts, collapsing against Lev’s chest with a choked moan as his fantasies from this morning make themselves known again: Lev taking what he wants from Yaku’s body, wild and unabashed, seeking to bring them both to the precipice of pleasure at any cost. Yaku instinctively seeks out Lev’s scent, skimming his nose along the buzzed hairs at the nape of his neck and relishing in the way that Lev gasps and tightens his grip on Yaku’s ass. 

“You need to smell like - like me,” he mutters, distracted. A question dies on Yaku’s tongue as Lev suddenly spreads his cheeks and prods curiously at his hole. 

“Oh,” Yaku gasps, slamming his eyes shut and pushing his ass out. “Yes - Lev -” His knees begin to quake, threatening to give out under the crushing heat of fire building in every nerve. 

“He especially smells like Kenma-san here,” Lev muses to himself, sliding a finger inside. Yaku clenches around it, fingers scrabbling for something - anything - to hold onto. He manages to grab the lip of the tub as Lev huffs softly, seemingly pleased and conflicted in equal amounts about the lack of resistance his finger encounters. He presses another finger in with a curious noise, and Yaku can’t help the low groan that erupts from the back of his throat. 

“Lev please,” he says, narrowly avoiding begging. “Don’t tease, I’m - fuck -” Yaku’s body seizes, contracting around Lev’s fingers as they slide roughly over his prostate. “_Ah, fuck!_” Slick coats Lev’s wrist as Yaku writhes in his lap, furiously aroused. 

“I’m not teasing,” Lev says. His voice is far too petulant to belong to an alpha fingering Yaku within an inch of his life. “I have to get Kenma-san’s out before mine can go in.” 

“Holy -” Yaku clenches his teeth as he comes, sent over the edge by the thought of being bred and pupped by his packmates. The fingers inside him spread wider as Yaku paints Lev’s chest with come, prolonging his orgasm into something luxurious and decadent that has Yaku’s jaw dropping open with a ragged cry. 

“Yaku-san, please, _please_ can I,” Lev says. His voice cracks as his hips twitch, his scent piercing the air. “I’m going to die if I don’t get in you, please?”

“The tip,” Yaku slurs, arching his back. “Fuck, put it in just a little bit, do it.” 

Lev hisses with joy as he scrambles to get his feet underneath him, hooking his fingers to spread Yaku open a little wider and firmly pressing the silky head of his cock against Yaku’s hole. 

Yaku drags in deep breaths through his mouth, bracing himself on Lev’s shoulders at the blunt pressure as Lev begins to slide home.

“Oh my god,” he sobs as it pops in. It’s thicker than anything he’s ever taken, almost as thick as Kenma’s knot. “God, your fucking - thick alpha cock, _Lev._” Instinctively, he tries to sit back on it, and his toes curl when Lev grabs his hips to stop him. 

“Yaku-san - don’t move, I’ll -” 

Yaku moans. Curling his arm around Lev’s neck, he heaves him in for a sloppy kiss and drags his lips down Lev’s jaw, nipping at his chin.  


“You’ll what?” he asks breathlessly, licking a filthy stripe up his neck. Lev’s pupils are the size of marbles as he stares down at Yaku. “Are you going to come, Lev?” Lev nods frantically, and Yaku shivers in his arms as he sinks down another inch. “Do it then.” 

To Yaku’s surprise, Lev pitches forward with a wordless shout, wrapping his arms around Yaku and clutching him close to his chest. He buries his head in Yaku’s hair, his neck, shuddering as his cock flexes inside Yaku and his scent grows hotly satisfied. 

Yaku plunges his hand under the water to try and put some pressure around Lev’s knot as it inflates. He feels a bolt of heat through his core as he realizes his fingers aren’t big enough to wrap around it entirely.

It seems to unleash something in Lev, who growls as he sinks his teeth into Yaku’s shoulder, just shy of his scent gland. Yaku cries out as the sting ripples through his arm, and he tangles his other hand in Lev’s hair to draw his head up. Lev’s gaze is electric, unapologetic, and the piercing gleam of it sparks an answering growl in Yaku.

At the sound, the hard look in Lev’s eyes softens and his body slowly uncurls. The bruising grip of his fingers on Yaku’s skin relaxes, and he leans back against the edge of the tub while his cock continues to spurt streams of come into Yaku. He laps his tongue against the mark on Yaku’s shoulder, sneakily scenting the skin there as he does. 

Yaku grumbles as he shifts backwards to rest against Lev’s bent legs. Reluctantly, Lev loosens his arms, and for the first time since Yaku’s heat ended - the first time since he’d smelled Lev’s alpha scent - he feels settled. 

Then Lev opens his mouth. 

“Will you be my mate, Yaku-san?” 

Yaku bolts upright. “_What?_”

Lev blinks. “Will you be my mate, Yaku-san?” He says it a bit louder this time, and Yaku shakes his head, thoughts whirling around his head, cast asunder, not sure how they went from fucking to - to confessions.

“It’s not - it’s my heat that’s -" 

Lev snorts, and it’s enough to make Yaku draw back, indignant. “What - “ 

“Yaku-san,” he says earnestly, grabbing Yaku’s hands under the water, twining their fingers together before Yaku can protest. Yaku growls, trying to untangle them - this is not meant to be time for _talking_\- but Lev grips harder, tossing his head aside to get his sodden bangs out of his eyes. 

“Yaku-san,” he says again. “You’re mine. I’m an alpha now, and you’re the omega that’s meant to be my mate.” Yaku gapes. The nerve?

“You can feel it too, right?” Lev continues.

Yaku expects a smarmy grin to appear on Lev’s face. Maybe a lewd grind forward, emphasizing the joke. But Lev meets Yaku’s eyes squarely, jaw set in a way that he’s only seen during the third set of a particularly grueling game. 

Lev presses him for an answer. “Can’t you smell it?” Yaku frowns down at the bathwater as he thinks.

Lev’s rut being triggered by his heat scent. Yaku’s heat dying down after he’d smelled Lev’s scent, only to come roaring back with a vengeance the next time he caught a whiff of it. The way Lev had naturally sought him out, both yesterday and today. The way he’d been surer, more careful with his strength.

The way Yaku couldn’t - and hadn’t wanted to - resist him.

He glowers up at Lev. “We’re too young to be mated.” 

Lev gasps. “No!” 

“It’s not a ‘no,’” Yaku says, leaning back even farther so he can press his foot against Lev’s chest. Obligingly, Lev lets his knees straighten out a little more so Yaku’s back is supported. “It’s a ‘not right now.’ We’re off the tail ends of our heat and rut, anything would sound like a good idea right now.”

“So when?” Lev asks immediately. He grabs Yaku’s foot and digs his thumb into the arch, pressing firm circles into the thick muscle there. Yaku groans, resting his head against Lev’s knees. 

“Get your dick out of my ass and we can talk about it.” 

“You _liked_ my dick in your ass,” Lev says. His tone is smug, and the kiss he leaves on Yaku’s ankle is too wet. Scowling, Yaku splashes him. 

“Hey!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for sticking with me through my first multichap fic. 💜 [Check out more of my Haikyuu!! fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=758208&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&commit=Sort+and+Filter&user_id=JaneBuzJane) if you liked this!

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: [@JaneBuzJane](https://twitter.com/JaneBuzJane)


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